


Nuestro Sueño

by BrightRedSunset88



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Dream Visiting, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, because it's extremely unfair that these two only get to see each other once a year, because they belong together no matter what, sorry I don't make the rules - Freeform, these precious beans need to be together way more often
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26680753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightRedSunset88/pseuds/BrightRedSunset88
Summary: Miguel dreams that he is finally with his beloved tatarabuelo again.Or is it just a dream?
Relationships: Héctor Rivera & Miguel Rivera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Nuestro Sueño

**Author's Note:**

> Got this awesome idea from a request! Enjoy! But seriously, once a year is not enough.

It's been a week since Miguel has returned from his wild adventure in the Land of the Dead. A week since he's met his deceased relatives. A week since Hector was being taken away by The Final Death.

Miguel tightly squeezed his eyes shut now as he lay in bed, his body tensing in worry and irritation. It's been on his mind constantly since his return. Did he save his tatarabuelo in time? Did he stall too long in helping Coco remember? He hated not knowing. He hated that he couldn't see his deceased family more than once a year. Well... he didn't know if he would ever see them again now that he wasn't cursed anymore. For the first 11 years of his life of course he didn't see them. But now that he had been cursed last week, he wasn't sure if some small part of the curse (or blessing now, rather) still lingered with him, just enough so that he had the privilege to physically interact with his deceased familia once a year.

But of course, once a year wasn't enough. Now that he's met them, he wanted to get to know all of them more. He wanted to spend actual time with his familia and bond with them instead of having them chase him around La Tierra de los Muertos for 12 hours.

His eyelids began to grow heavy, and Miguel succumbed to rest for the night. It's been a long day as he had to do his assigned house chores and catch up on his homework, as well as having the privilege to spend time with some of his friends from school later on to reward himself. He snuggled in deeper under his blanket, eyes fluttering closed as sleep overtook him...

Miguel was suddenly standing in the courtyard, cempasuchil petals lightly dancing near his feet. He was in his get up from a week ago, red hoodie and all, no longer in his pj's. A confused frown etched onto his face, but then he remembered, he was sleeping and this was just a dream. But then again, it felt so real...

He glanced around before hearing a very light, soft distant sound. It sounded familiar... it sounded like...

Miguel made his way down a short path and turned the corner to follow the sound. A smile graced his face when he heard it was guitar strumming, and it was beautiful. He didn't have to wait long as the guitar player came into view... and Miguel's heart nearly burst out of his chest.

Sitting there on a bench was his Papa Hector, straw hat and all, looking healthier than ever. His bones, while still slightly yellow, looked more put together than last week, even if just slightly. He looked all around happier, now that he was remembered by his living family. He strummed his spirit copy of the guitar gracefully and proudly, eyes gently closed once and a while, his melodic voice accompanying with hums and heartwarming lyrics.

Miguel was so overcome with shock that all he could do was watch as his hero played out the enchanting melody, letting it flow into his heart, ears and soul. When Hector finished playing, his eyes opened and landed on his tataranieto. In that moment all the rest of the world didn't exist as Hector set his guitar down as gently but as quickly as possible, both he and Miguel running to each other and finally engulfing each other in a tight, warm embrace.

Hector smelled faintly of leather and tequila, and Miguel savored it.

Miguel sniffed, grabbing tight onto his grandfather's vest. "You're here," He said hoarsely. "You're actually here. H-how...?"

"This is a dream, mijo," Hector replied softly, playing softly with Miguel's hair. Miguel started to deflate at the words, but Hector reached out and lifted his chin. "But this isn't your average dream. We are both asleep now, and somehow I can come visit you. I figured this out after I recovered."

"Really?" Miguel brightened up at this, and Hector fought the urge to swallow his boy into another hug as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Si, chamaco. It took a day or two, but I really wanted to see you again to let you know that I was okay. Even though we cannot see each other in person, I can at least see you here."

Hector didn't have to fight his urge for two more seconds as Miguel wrapped his arms around him again, the happiest smile plastered on the younger Rivera's face.

"Can... can I see you every night?" Miguel asked tentatively.

"We'll have to see, chamaco," Hector replied, resting his head on top of Miguel's. "This is the first time I've done this. But for now," He pulled back, ruffling the boy's hair. "Let's enjoy our time together."

Miguel had to agree. Who knew how long they could be together for tonight? Either of them could wake up at any moment. Miguel tried not to think about it though; his papa was here so he would make the most of their time together.

"So," Hector began as he and Miguel returned to the bench and sat, picking his guitar back up. "How's the familia?"

"Everyone is great," Miguel replied truthfully and brightly. "Abuelita finally lifted the music ban, and Rosa and Abel are planning on playing instruments too!"

"Really? Ay, que exito!" Hector beamed. He was so proud that music was back in the family. "You did it, mijo! You brought music back to the family!"

"I did it because of you, Papa Hector," Miguel said, happy to be able to call Hector his papa. "I'm a musician because of you... I...." There were no words to express Miguel's eternal thanks, so he just hugged Hector once again, trying to convey what he wanted to say in the hug. Hector knew all too well, wrapping an arm around Miguel.

"I'm so proud of you, Miguel," Hector smiled. "So, SO proud." And he was. He was the proudest grandfather in both worlds.

Miguel gave him one last long squeeze before pulling back. "What song was that you were playing earlier?"

"Eh, just whatever was coming to my mind," Hector replied before pausing with a blink, rethinking. "Well, I guess it was really what was coming from my heart. Sometimes, when you can't think of a song, you just start playing. No idea in mind, just go right into it and see what you get."

"I've actually been trying to write a song for the past couple days, but nothing could come to mind. At least now I know what to do."

"There you go, chamaco," Hector smiled, nudging Miguel.

The two of them spent their time lounging on the bench for a little while, Hector telling Miguel how the deceased family members were doing and sharing stories. But soon afterwards, the two were caught up in some lively songs, singing, playing and dancing to their hearts' content. It was the best feeling to finally see each other again, even if it was a dream. But again, it was no ordinary dream.

It was _theirs._

After the music and laughter ended, Miguel started to feel drowsy and Hector noticed this, sitting them both on the bench and letting Miguel rest in his lap.

"I think you're about to wake up, mijo." His voice was sad as he said this.

"No, I don't want to go, I can't leave you now," Miguel whined, clinging onto his tatarabuelo.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Miguel. Hopefully I can see you more nights. But if I don't, just remember-" He sat Miguel up, placing a bony hand on Miguel's chest. "I'll always be in here."

Miguel smiled, emotion after emotion tugging at him. "I love you, Papa Hector."

"I love you too, mijo," Hector said, letting Miguel back into his lap to doze off. The last feeling Miguel remembered as his eyes closed was Hector's hand running through his hair.

.............

As light entered through his window, Miguel groaned. He never liked mornings. He heard his familia downstairs preparing breakfast and sat up, trying to be ready to start the-

He stopped. Something was different, he could tell.

Miguel curiously sniffed the air, and a smile made its way onto his face. The faint smell of leather and tequila danced in the air, and Miguel could not be more content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, I had lots of fun writing this! Here are some disclaimers:
> 
> Some of the Spanish words I have written down need accents over certain vowels, but I can't since I don't have a Spanish setting / keyboard. For example, the word "exito" (success) needs an accent over the e, and "Papa Hector" needs accents over the second "a" and the "e", so I am sorry for not correctly writing his name down.
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
